


The Lady or the Tiger? Conclusive Ending

by kanaes (irltooru)



Category: The Lady or the Tiger? - Frank Stockton
Genre: Alternate Ending, conclusive ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7119454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irltooru/pseuds/kanaes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the story didn't end in a question, what would it have ended with? <br/>Did the door on the right contain the tiger, or a beautiful woman?<br/>Did the princess truly love the young man, and wanted to let him live?<br/>Or did she let her jealousy consume her?</p><p>(aka: watch me word vomit as I try to answer all of these questions.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lady or the Tiger? Conclusive Ending

**Author's Note:**

> hahahaaaa here I go,, writing this as per my English class requirements. Enjoy.

_She had known she would be asked, she had decided what she would answer, and, without the slightest hesitation, she had moved her hand to the right._ The princess waited with bated breath alongside the rest of the spectators as her lover reached for the handle of the door on the right without missing a single beat. From that distance, she observed the confidence in which his relaxed grip turned the rusty knob. She saw the lack of fear in his face and decided that _no, he did not know her completely at all._ The young man’s assumption was that she’d save his life, that she loved him with every beat of her heart and every inch of her soul, so how could she give him up to a tiger? _But how,_ the princess had thought in one of those sleepless escapades, _could I give him up to that degenerate of a woman?_ Would not the tiger and lady become synonymous in name and nature? Would not the lady, rather than being a fine woman, become indeed a lioness and take the princess’ beloved away but not kill?

So in that moment, when the young man’s fingers turned the knob casually and quickly, she knew what would appear behind that door. When his face morphed from one of pleasant expectation to something very grotesquely different, the usual ruddiness of his cheeks blanching to a stark white, she knew that she was right. He had been awaiting the immediate opening of another door, the songs of choristers greeting his ears and the shine of golden horns flashing across his vision, the fear of a vexatious execution gone. But this was simply not what he expected to see. The door swung open to reveal a dark room, and in the chilling silence he heard a low purr. A growl. The crowd murmured quietly, sympathetic, unwilling to see such a promising, statuesque young man die.

The semi-barbaric king, with all half of his barbaric personality, had arranged for a very special creature to be sent on this certain day, for this certain execution. He had his men search high and low, far and wide, until they happened upon the most peculiar tiger they had ever seen. The king was horribly excited and prayed that the door to the tiger would be chosen, so every eye in the arena could witness this magnificent animal. Naturally, he was overjoyed at the absence of choristers, dancing maidens, and a very fair lady. The young man was the exact opposite. A light sheen of cold sweat now dotted his pale face, and if anybody had the privilege of being seated in one of the places closest to the ground, they would witness the trembling that now possessed his muscles, rendering him horror-struck and unable to move. His eyes were glued to the space behind the door, and a slight whimper burst from his lips when a pair of yellow eyes flashed like stars. He looked into them for a second, holding the tiger’s aureate gaze before he found himself on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. A string holding the crowd together snapped, and they shouted, cheered, at the sight before them. Some even whistled appreciatively, and the young man wondered for a brief moment before he recovered from the hit, finally able to see the animal in the full glare of daylight.

The first thing he noticed was that it was larger than normal. The second thing was that its coat, with powerful muscles rippling underneath, was a snowy white. The black markings that ran through it reminded him of bloody scars.

He made the mistake of turning around and looking at the princess, shock and betrayal evident in his panicked gaze. _Why?_

He barely had time to react, but just before the circling tiger pounced, he caught the slight gesticulation of her fingers in farewell, and an adieu on her lips.

The physical pain quickly overshadowed the pain in his heart when he felt claws sinking into the soft flesh of his abdomen. He threw his head back in agony, a scream rupturing from his throat. He tried to kick, tried to claw back, but it was as if the tiger was made of steel. The terrifying yellow irises, sclera unnaturally black, bored into him as if savouring the look of unadulterated disquietude written across his features.

The young man knew nothing in this new world of anguish except the vague taste of dirt and blood in his mouth, and the creature that was unravelling him for the world to see. He didn’t fight back, because it felt like his limbs were detached from his body, and they didn’t listen to him anymore. The pain became constant for him, every new burst of torment doing nothing more than to draw out a garbled cry from his tortured lungs. _Again and again, until no sound came from his mouth, but blood instead._ It pained him to scream now, because he felt the jagged blades of his broken ribs digging into his lungs, puncturing, destroying. He felt teeth on his back; felt the acuminous bite of claws digging into his bloodied abdomen again and again, until he felt a sickening uncoiling inside of him. He felt release somewhere amongst all of the pain, but he quickly dismissed it because he had no notion of incarcerating his dignity anymore. Crimson poured from his mouth, nose, and everywhere else. He choked on it, every breath gushing out as a sea of red. Black spots danced across his vision, and he welcomed the overwhelming dizziness when it finally came. He felt a paw slam heavily into his skull, and the last thing he saw before darkness was the apathy carved into the stone of his lover’s face.


End file.
